A loving, Caring, little boy.
Tossed around as if just a toy,
with bruises hidden from their sight.
The nervous manner caused by fright.
who did not even know his plight.
A laugh of pain through endless nights.
this hatred building up to spite.
attempts to cause a final fight
though, knives don't usually bring us joy
This time he told a clever ploy.
My first try at iambic tetrameter